Dirty Dirty Rich Beautiful
by Aisurando-APH
Summary: Iceland needs nations to loan her money to help with her economy crisis, but they want something in return. So she pays them, secretly, but not with money. Rated M for whoreism. Also, female Iceland. No likey, no clicky.
1. Chapter 1

When you think of whore, what usually comes to your mind? Sluts, hoes, skanks. 'A skank who goes around screwing everyone all the time' is the main definition in people today. Part of it is true. 'Screwing everyone all the time' is part of an explaination of a whore, but they only do that because it is their only form of getting money in order to stay alive. In my case, it's to keep my country alive. When my banks crashed, I needed someone to rely on and get help from. None of the nations would help me unless I paid them in some form. Sex. I was nervous, but I was also very scared for my country, so I complied. I used to be just a cold nation that no-one really noticed. I never wanted anyone other than Russia and my family to know about it knowing that some would stare at me while others would spit at my feet. I continued going though, knowing.I was doing this for my country, not for me and knowing the risk of rejection if the other nations found out. I guess that's just the life of a whore though. Getting rejected by many but accepted by others who just want you for sex. Nobody stops to look at why the whore does this. Most of the time we don't even want to be a whore. In the Phillipines, millions of girls are prostitutes just to keep their family alive though they hate being a whore. Some even lie about their age to get money for their family. But who cares about us? We're just skanks who screw over people all the time, right?

Looking at the time on my cellphone, Iceland sat up and pulled on her clothes. There was a groan from the sleeping nation behind her as he turned over and opened his eyes.

"Time already?" He asked, blinking.

"Yeah. It's morning now." She replied. He sighed, sitting up and grabbing his wallet, handing a wad of cash to me. I took it, shoving it in my pocket.

"Thanks." I said, checking I had everything before heading to the door.

"No, thank you." The man replied with a small smirk. I rolled my eyes, opening the door.

"See ya next time" He said.

"Ja. You too, Ivan." And with that she walked out and closed the door behind her. Iceland walked downstairs. She knew Russia would call for her again, he had been feeling lonely of recent. She checked her phone, seeing she had a message from Denmark. 'Norway's gone. I need some company. There's money involved. :)' Was the message. Iceland swallowed and text back 'okay, I'll be there soon.'

She really didn't want to do this, but she needed the money more than anything. And with Britain and Netherlands breathing down her neck, it was even more stressful. Sometimes she wished she could just fade away and become human so she didn't have to deal with nation responsibilities. She shivered from lack of clothing as she got into the cab, closing the door behind her and listening to 'She will be loved' by Maroon 5 on the radio. Softly beginning to sing to the music in the back, she lost track of how quickly they arrived at Denmark's. She paid the driver and walked up the steps of Denmark's porch, knocking on the door. The door opened, revealing the spikey haired blond, grinning his signature grin.

"Hej Ice! Glad you could make it" he said, ushering her inside. Iceland sighed, taking off her jacket.

"Ja. Lets just get this over with." She stated. Denmark rolled his eyes, pinching her cheek.

"Aw. Come on, Ice. Norway isn't home till late. Lets have some fuuuun." He said, grinning wider.

"Fine. But don't pinch my cheek." She growled, swatting his hand away. Denmark chuckled, nodding.

"...So...Couch or bed?" She asked, the words said bitterly. Denmark grinned, pulling her to the couch.

"Couch is good. Bed is too far." He explained.

"...The bed is only up a few stairs" she reminded him, blinking.

"Ja. I know. But I can't wait that long." He grinned wider, Iceland scowling in response. Denmark pushed her onto the couch, laying over her and pulling her into a kiss, soon sliding his tongue into her mouth, smirking as their tongues wrestled. He unbuttoned her shirt, ripping it from her and tossing it to the floor. Iceland did the same with his, though not as passionately. They both pulled each others bottom clothes off, tossing them aside. Denmark smirked, licking her neck and trailing his tongue down her body, getting lower and lower. Iceland moaned softly, her blush darkening. He roughly thrusted into her, both moaning loudly as he did so. He kept thrusting in and out, speeding up the movement as he did so. Iceland moaned loudly, digging her nails into his back. He kissed her again, sliding his tongue in and battling for dominance. Iceland felt her back slowly arch, her moans muffled against his mouth.

Minutes later, Iceland lay underneath the sweaty Dane, both of there breaths ragged and uneven. She was absolutely sick of this. So far, only the other Nordics and Russia knew what she was doing. She had hoped that no one else knew or ever would know. Denmark got up, smirking and handing her cash. Iceland took the cash and counted.

"I'm going to need more Denmark. You know that." Iceland said. This wasn't even pocket money. Denmark shrugged.

"Meh. it's all ya gettin'." He replied. Iceland grumbled.

"Denmark." She warned. Denmark stood, pinning her against the wall.

"Shut up." He ordered. He pinned her on the couch again, roughly kissing her and forcing his mouth in, holding her arms abover her head and ignoring her struggles. He roughly thrusted into her, thrusting in and out harshly. Iceland began to whimper, tears beginning to fall as he continued to do so until he climaxed, breaking away and trailing his tongue over her body, touching her. Suddenly the front door opened and Norway walked in.

"Danmark. Leave her." He growled, pulling the Dane off the the trembling nation. Iceland stared up at her brother, hurt and fear in her eyes. Norway pulled her up, taking her to the spare room and laying her on the bed.

"N-Norway thanks for th-!" She was cut off as Norway's lips crashed against her's. He was her brother. What on earth was he doing? Iceland pushed him away, covering herself in the blankets.

"W-What are you doing?" She shrieked, staring at him.

"What do you think? Helping you with your debts." He replied, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. And what do you know it, he pinned her down, continuing with what he had implied.

Iceland caught the taxi home the next day, still shaken up from yesterday's events. She had a bath first thing when she got home, trembling and shaking.


	2. Chapter 2

For months Iceland stayed at home, only having the occasional request from Russia. No one visited, and certainly didn't call to check up on her. She was beginning to feel a little weak, the cold she had growing worse and worse.

The next World Meeting came up eventually and she staggered down the halls, only to be dragged into a dark room and be pinned down, someone staring at her with a knife in hand. Iceland stared back in shock. She immediately recognized who it was and blinked. What were they doing? Right then they lifted her top up so her stomach was showing before beginning to carve something into her flesh, the fresh blood running down onto the floor as she screamed in pain into the hand covering her mouth. Minutes later the figure left her there, walking to the conference room. Iceland followed after several minutes, clutching at her shirt as everyone looked at her, gasping at the blood staining her shirt. Norway ran over, lifting her shirt to see the wound and was faced with the word 'SLUT' carved into her in letters red with blood. Everyone stared at the words in horror, looking at Iceland. There was a tense silence before Iceland swallowed, turning her back to everyone, not looking up. She just walked out the room and out of the building, everyone erupting into a fit after she left. Once she got home, she sobbed and sobbed, burying her face into her pillow.

Later that day, the conference has ended. Iceland heard her ring on her cellphone go off and picked it up, seeing a text from Denmark. 'Come over and I'll keep you happy ;)' the text said. Iceland screamed in frustration, throwing her phone across the room, watching it break as it hit the wall.

Later that day Iceland went to go make dinner when she suddenly broke into another coughing fit, though this time, they wouldn't stop. She kept coughing and coughing, the coughs wracking her body as she felt her throat burn before red liquid splattered out of her mouth, covering her hand and shirt. She began shivering and dropped to her knees, continuing to cough up blood and vomiting also, blood mixed in with it.

A week had gone by since the world meeting and Russia had decided to go pay Iceland a visit, feeling genuinely bad for her and shameful that he had caused all this. He got out of the taxi cab and knocked on her door, waiting for her to answer. When there was no reply, he knocked again but received more silence. He looked around before pairing through the window, seeing food on the bench. He blinked, trying the handle and finding it open, stepping into the house. Immediately he was struck with the smell of sickness and blood. He blinked in worry, closing the door behind him and walking into the kitchen, gasping when he saw Iceland laying there, blood and vomit beside her, unconscious.

"Islandiya!" He shrieked, pulling her into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom, laying her on the bed and wrapping her in the blankets, washing her face from the spilled contents. Iceland groaned, opening her eyes to a Russian staring at her with worry.

"Nnng...R-Russia...?" She croaked, staring at him with half open eyes.

"Da, it's me." He replied, checking her for a fever and sighing with relief when she didn't have one. Iceland just stared at him, her eyes staying half-cast.

"...How long have you been there, Islandiya?" He asked with concern. Iceland coughed, groaning. Her glands hurt like hell, not to mention she could barely breath with a stuffy nose and nearly every time she exhaled or inhaled, she coughed, hurting her throat and making her head spin.

"Ah...since the meeting..." She replied in no more than a whisper, sniffing. Russia stared at her with wide violet eyes, blinking.

"That was over a week ago, comrade!" He said, really worrying now. He hurried off to make her some soup, knowing she would be hungry before passing it to her and sitting her up. Iceland began to drink it, dropping her spoon as she began coughing again.


End file.
